


I Read It For The Articles

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Breathplay, Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hair Pulling, Kissing, Lingerie, Masturbation, Praise Kink, Slow Dancing, Sugar Baby/Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:41:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26883823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: "These flowers only blossom every hundred years, and they can only be found on one bush on one valley." She snapped her fingers. "It's like stick insects!""Stick insects?""You know how there's that one type of stick insect, only found on the one bush on the one tiny island?" The Doctor was waving her hands around. "Imagine if you could make dye out of those stick insects." She wrinkled her nose. "Which would be inhumane.But!" More pacing now. "It's a rareness like that. Before that skin mag, I'd seen a shawl made with it. Gorgeous thing, woven by a whole religious order that is dedicated to tending the bush." She grinned then. "Real protective, too. Never cross a nun with a morningstar." She shivered."... right," Yaz said. She was, more or less, keeping up, although she had no idea what the Doctor was talking about in regards to stick insects."So," the Doctor said, "I'm going to need to ask a big favor of you."Yaz and the Doctor go on a mission.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79
Collections: Yes Fest 2020





	I Read It For The Articles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [intoxicatelou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/gifts).



The Doctor was frowning down at the TARDIS console when Yaz came down into the console room, her hands in her pockets as she rocked on her heels. She’d taken her coat off, draping it over a different part of the console, and she was chewing on her lower lip.

“What’s up?” Yaz asked, and she tried to keep her tone casual.

After Ryan and Graham had left, the Doctor had closed herself off, only letting the bubbly exterior mask (and by now Yaz could tell which bits were a mask) on. Yaz would occasionally catch glimpses of her true feelings under it all, but it was only within the last few months that the Doctor had been more open. Yaz was well aware that the Doctor could shut down again, and she didn't want to inadvertently slam that door shut again. 

"There's these plants," the Doctor said, and now her face was brightening up, "they're a little bit like a cross between a foxglove and a camellia. Very pretty, and they've got this really potent color that can be used for an inimitable dye. It's this... greenish purple, almost, which _shouldn't_ be able to exist, but somehow it does!"

Yaz nodded. "What do they smell like?" Wait, was that a silly question?

The Doctor's face broke into a broad grin. "That is an _excellent_ question. Yasmin Khan, always asking the good questions. I'm actually not sure what they smell like." She looked faintly sheepish. "Would ya believe I haven't actually given them a sniff? They're just so..." She trailed off, waved her hands around.

_Must be some flower, to leave even the Doctor speechless_ , Yaz thought. "So what about the flowers?"

"Remember that magazine that we picked up, the other day?" The Doctor was beginning to pace. She'd taken her hands out of her pockets and rolled her sleeves up - Yaz tried not to stare at the pale skin of her forearms, almost glowing in the golden light. 

"Y'mean the one with all the naked aliens?" Yaz had assumed they were naked, at any rate. They'd ended up in a certain type of store (the type of store that had neon lighting on the outside in lurid colors and cheap fluorescent on the inside, along with some very... interesting displays) on the trail of some kind of alien smuggler selling chocolate on the black market (it was apparently a hot commodity on that planet, up there with cocaine). Yaz had stared at all the various gadgets used for who even knew what by aliens, while the Doctor talked animatedly to the tentacled individual behind the counter. 

There was a weird comfort in the fact that a seedy sex shop was a seedy sex shop, no matter where or when you went. 

"Yep," the Doctor said cheerfully. "So! When I were lookin' through it -"

"You read it for the articles, don't ya?" Yaz interrupted, teasing.

"When I were looking through it," the Doctor continued, although it looked like her cheeks were turning pink, "I noticed there was a lot of people wearing skimpy clothing in that same sort of greenish-purple, and I _know_ that dye is hard to come by, so I don't know why a cheap skin mag would have a bunch of models dressed up in it."

"Maybe it was some kind of deal?" Yaz suggested. "I know there used to be a whole dirty magazine that made a big deal about putting diamond jewelry on their models."

"Lemme guess," the Doctor said, and she was smirking. "You read it for the articles?"

It was Yaz's turn to flush, her ears getting hot. "Well," she said, and she cleared her throat. "I mean. Um."

"These are more rare than the diamonds," the Doctor said, going back to her original train of thought. "These flowers only blossom every hundred years, and they can only be found on one bush on one valley." She snapped her fingers. "It's like stick insects!"

Yaz blinked. "Stick insects?"

"You know how there's that one type of stick insect, only found on the one bush on the one tiny island?" The Doctor was waving her hands around. "Imagine if you could make dye out of those stick insects." She wrinkled her nose. "Which would be inhumane. _But_!" More pacing now. "It's a rareness like that. Before that skin mag, I'd seen a shawl made with it. Gorgeous thing, woven by a whole religious order that is dedicated to tending the bush." She grinned then. "Real protective, too. Never cross a nun with a morningstar." She shivered. 

"... right," Yaz said. She was, more or less, keeping up, although she had no idea what the Doctor was talking about in regards to stick insects. 

"So," the Doctor said, "I'm going to need to ask a big favor of you." She looked beseechingly at Yaz, all big hazel eyes and clasped hands. 

"I'm always willing to do a favor for you," Yaz said, and that was probably more... intense than she'd meant it to be. She cleared her throat. "I mean," she added, slightly more sheepish, "as long as it isn't too... sticky." 

"This might get a bit sticky," the Doctor said. She pulled the magazine out of some little drawer in the console (where had that been hidden, anyway?) and waved it vaguely. "The bloke what runs this has a whole mansion, right, and he throws parties. I've been seein' ads for it in the magazine, and on the website."

"So you're goin' on the website, too," Yaz said. "Good articles?"

"Excellent ones," the Doctor said absently. "But. We could go to a party, have a poke around, see what's goin' on and if he's poaching flowers or up to something else unsavory." She paused. "More unsavory than skin mags. Although from what I've gathered his business practices aren't particularly unsavory, apart from rather ghastly taste in whatever he's outfitting his models in." 

"Sounds like a plan," Yaz said. "What's the favor part? You know I love a party." That was more or less true. She'd never really been one for parties back home, but there was a _big_ difference between standing around with a can of Fanta listening to someone earnestly tell her about their startup plans and meeting aliens over canapes unlike anything that could even be imagined on Earth. 

"Well," the Doctor said, and she was fiddling with her hands now, rubbing them together, cracking her knuckles, "he's only inviting a certain _kind_ of guest. And we'd have to go together."

"Well, obviously," said Yaz. "Wouldn't wanna go to an alien party all on my lonesome." 

"The party. It, uh." The Doctor cleared her throat. "When I say we have to go _together_ , I don't just mean in the technical sense. Or maybe in the technical sense, but a different sort of technical."

Yaz raised an eyebrow. She still wasn't sure where the Doctor was going with this.

The Doctor took a deep breath, as if she was about to dive off a cliff. "I'm gonna need to go as your sugar daddy. Mummy? We're gonna have to pose as that sort of couple, since those are the types that are invited."

Yaz blinked. "So like. We're pretending we're dating?" Her heart was very loud in her ears. 

"Something like that, yeah," the Doctor said. "He's only allowing couples in, and the only types that ever get invited to these sorts of things are, well..." She waved a hand. "I understand if it's too awkward for you," she added hastily. "I'm sure I can -"

"What am I gonna _wear_ to this sort of thing?" 

The Doctor's face broke into a broad, sunny grin. "Yasmin Khan, you are a wonder," she said, her voice full of admiration.

Yaz's face heated up, and she gave an awkward smile. "Well," she said, "always happy to help, aren't I?" 

The Doctor leaned forward, as if she was about to... what? Hug Yaz? Kiss her? Dance with her? The look on her face was nervous and expectant, and then it closed down, and she was taking a step back. She cleared her throat, and she smiled at Yaz with a slightly nervous expression. "We're gonna have to, uh, look over some stuff," she said. "To figure out how to fit in."

"I thought you were always proud of how you can fit in anywhere," Yaz teased. 

"Well, yes, but I’d need to be inconspicuous in this case," the Doctor said, and she wrinkled her nose. "It'd be easier if we could go in as staff," she added. "Nobody ever notices staff. But he's notorious about who he lets where, and he doesn't let staff into one part of the mansion. I'm convinced that's where he's doing... whatever it is that he's doing." 

Yaz nodded. 

The Doctor rubbed her hands together, her expression taking on the determined _let's-do-this-thing_ cast. "To the wardrobe," she said, in the tones of someone going to arm themselves for battle. 

Yaz wasn't sure if the flutter in the pit of her stomach was nerves or excitement, but she swallowed in hopes that it didn't climb up her throat, and she smiled at the Doctor. "Let's do this," she said, and shoved her hands into her pockets to resist the urge to grab for the Doctor's.

* * * 

"I feel like a disco ball," Yaz complained, some hours later, as the two of them walked away from the TARDIS. Her dress was made of some kind of silvery, sparkly material that seemed to catch the light. She was half worried she was sending little bouncing rainbows out whenever the light hit her. 

"I think you look quite fetching," the Doctor protested. "Very futuristic."

"Does it count as futuristic if we're in the future? Sort of?" Yaz adjusted the purple silk scarf she had draped across her shoulders. It wasn't that she considered herself a particularly _modest_ dresser in her day to day life, but this outfit in particular... well. 

The dress was slit all the way up to _there_ and cut all the way down to _there_ \- she wasn't wearing a bra, since she wouldn't have been able to wear one without it showing. The Doctor had laid out a red garter, suspenders, and stockings as well, and Yaz could feel the odd tension of them as they took steps.

"I'd say so," the Doctor said cheerfully. "I've given up on figuring out what counts as futuristic versus not, since your usual outfit would be extremely futuristic for some of my other companions."

"Huh," said Yaz, absorbing that. They were making their way towards a huge, tacky looking mansion that was overlooking the river they were walking beside. It seemed that fake Greek columns had stood the test of time and space. As it were. The fake marble statues looked a little less human than what Yaz was used to, but the impact was more or less the same. 

Then the rest of the Doctor's words hit her. "Wait, hang on. You've travelled with people from the past?" 

There were other people walking with them, mostly women in equally ridiculous dresses. Yaz felt downright conservative, compared to some of those getups. Yaz, at least, was more or less covered. A lot of the more human looking aliens were wearing the equivalent of two sequins and a folded hanky. The less human aliens... well, Yaz had never been a good judge for what counted as "modest" in another species and what didn't. 

The Doctor in her black tuxedo (with the hems around her shins, naturally)… well, she didn't blend in, she never blended in. But at least she didn't stand out as much as she usually did. She had her hands in the pockets of her black jacket, and she was grinning. 

"Love a party," she said, her tone excited. "I hope they have those little mini grilled cheese sandwiches, with the shot glasses of tomato soup!"

"What _are_ you on about?" Yaz asked, but she was grinning. 

"Classic party food, that," the Doctor protested, as the two of them got in line. 

"You're making that up," Yaz accused. 

"I'd never," the Doctor said, her face solemn. Then it broke out into a broad, pleased grin. "Or would I?"

Yaz snorted, looking around the line at the other people. There were other couples around them, although much more handsy, with arses and tits being grabbed with impunity. Impulsively, Yaz slid closer. "Doctor," she said, when they were hip to hip, "we're supposed to be blending in." 

"We are, aren't we?" The Doctor looked around, her gaze critical, as if she was just taking it all in, calculating. Then her arm came out, and it wrapped around Yaz's waist, pulling the other woman closer to her. She rested an almost proprietary hand on Yaz's hip, warm enough that Yaz could feel it through the skin and the garter. 

"Oh," Yaz said, and her voice was coming out a little more high pitched than she'd have liked. 

"Sorry, is this -" The Doctor made to move her arm away, looking slightly panicky, and Yaz put her hand over the Doctor's, keeping it in place. 

"No," Yaz said quickly. "I mean." She cleared her throat. "You don't have to stop. It's... okay. I like it. It's fine." _Wait, shit, did I have to say that I like it? Am I making it weird?_

The Doctor smiled, and she looked relieved. "Okay, good," she said, and she pulled Yaz a little closer. "In about two thousand years," the Doctor whispered into Yaz's ear, "they're gonna find this building, and they'll have forgotten what kinda place it was, and they're gonna think it was some great temple to a god they'd forgotten." Her mouth was right up against Yaz's ear, sending little goosebumps up the back of Yaz's neck as her lips brushed up against Yaz. "I never had the heart to tell 'em the truth."

"That's nice of you," Yaz said weakly. 

"Wouldn't want 'em to get mad at me, if I told 'em the salacious history of the place," the Doctor continued. The two of them were moving forward in line, towards the bored bouncer. "Mind you, most temples have a fairly salacious history all on their own."

"Do they?" They were walking on a red carpet now, and the soles of Yaz's sensible (if very shiny) shoes sank into it. 

"Oh yeah," the Doctor said, and she whistled. "Especially the Romans. Absolutely _loved_ an orgy, the Romans did. Always made things awkward when you got invited to a nice little ritual and they neglected to tell you if you needed to wear the nice pants without holes in 'em."

"You never," Yaz said, scandalized. 

"You've probably got pants with holes in," the Doctor protested. "I’ve seen you do laundry! And besides, it's one of the truths of the universe - as soon as your underthings get especially comfortable, they start gettin' holes in them!"

“Doctor,” Yaz said. “You never went to an orgy!” She was trying very hard not to think about the Doctor in an orgy, tried not to think of the Doctor amongst all of… _that_. 

The Doctor didn't get a chance to respond, because the big looking alien (who was somehow still wearing a bowtie, because of course he was. Did bouncers for certain types of clubs always wear the same type of outfit, regardless of species? This particular one seemed to have more than one head, and there was a bow tie under each chin.

The Doctor's bow tie looked nicer, at least. 

"I'll show you to your rooms," an alien with tentacles standing behind the bouncer intoned, with a voice like an underground river. 

"Rooms?" Yaz asked, and the being turned towards her, very slowly.

"Or course," the alien said, as they slowly made their way up a flight of stairs. "You are, after all, special guests of the Founder. You will have the finest accommodations we can offer." There were other couples all around them, mostly younger people in flashier, skimpier clothes draped over older people in more muted, formal attire. 

They fit right in. 

"Special guests, right," the Doctor said, and she was clearly bluffing. Her hand squeezed Yaz's hip a little tighter, and she was tense. 

The carpet they walked over was thick enough to muffle their steps, and they were passing rooms now, some with doors open to reveal... various activities (oh wow, that was a lot of tentacles, and who knew they could fit into so many... places?), some of them closed. 

"You will, of course, be staying the night, as special guests," said the alien. He led them to a big door at the very end of the hallway, and he unlocked it with a gold key. The room he led them into had a high ceiling and pale blue wallpaper. Against one wall, there was a burgundy couch roughly the size of Yaz's bed on the TARDIS and a bed that looked like it was bigger than her room back home. There was a kitchen, outfitted in what looked like marble and stainless steel, and a door to a bathroom that was probably more luxurious than she could ever dream of.

"Oh wow," Yaz said, her eyes wide. She'd never considered herself easily swayed by the finer things in life, what with all the traveling she'd been doing. _I wonder what they use this room for, in the future_ , some distant part of her pondered. _Do they have religious orgies? Have there been orgies in here before?_ It all looked too nice for... that sort of thing.

"Very nice," the Doctor said, her tone appreciative. "Thank you!"

"Enjoy yourselves," the alien said, and it bowed, and slowly made its way out. It closed the door behind it, and the two of them were alone. 

The Doctor still had an arm around Yaz's waist, and Yaz found she didn't want it to be moved. "Swanky, eh?" The Doctor gave her a squeeze, her hand moving up briefly to Yaz's side, then back down again. 

"Pretty swank," Yaz agreed. She went to sit down on the couch, and immediately found herself sinking into it, as if it were a great mound of mashed potatoes. She stretched her legs out in front of her, the slit in her skirt going up towards her thigh, and she caught the Doctor's eye following the line of it. _Interesting._

"Not usually one for the swank thing," the Doctor said, making her way towards the fridge and opening it up. Then she whistled. "Wow, lookit this!" She held up what looked like a bottle. "Champagne!"

"What, actual champagne? From that bit of France?" Yaz floundered upright, then made her way towards the Doctor to investigate.

"Well done, Yaz," the Doctor said, and she was grinning. "Didn't know you were up on your vintner lingo!"

"I'm not," said Yaz. "Jason from work sometimes goes on long tangents where he won't shut up about whatever new hobby he's into for the next few months while we're both stuck in the patrol car doing traffic tickets." She still remembered the mind numbing boredom of staring out the windshield and listening to Jason pontificate about the difference between wine from this region versus wine from that region. Especially since she didn't actually drink. 

"Funny the things you pick up from unexpected places, ain't it?" The Doctor put the bottle back into the fridge, and Yaz looked in herself.

A lot of foods wrapped in nice packaging. Things that might have been charcuterie, stuff that may have been cheese. Fruits (although not shaped like anything she'd ever seen), vegetables, more bottles of things. 

"I feel like we're being outfitted with a proper kitchen, not just some kind of skeezy love hotel," Yaz said, and the regret flooded her almost as soon as the words left her mouth. _Skeezy love hotel? Really, Khan?!_

"The owner of this place has a proper amount of local power," the Doctor said, and she didn't seem to notice how embarrassed Yaz was. "He wines and dines some very politically important folks, from what I've gathered."

"Did a proper read up, didja?" Yaz asked. "More reading it for the articles?"

"And you know it," the Doctor said, unflappable. "So," she said, and she rubbed her hands together, then held it out to Yaz, "y'ready to go party with the upper crust?"

"Ready as anything," she said, and she tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to wake up in her belly when their fingers laced together. 

* * * 

The party was both absurdly familiar and intensely strange. The music (loud, repetitive), the people gyrating on the dancefloor, the close crush of people.

"I think it's a universality of sentient species to always make their night clubs a certain way," the Doctor murmured into Yaz's ear, as they leaned against a wall. "We can slip out when we get the chance, have a bit of a poke around."

"Haven't been to a lot of clubs," Yaz admitted. "Not my scene."

"Well," said the Doctor, "we'll be out quick as anything. Just need to make a point of being _seen_ so they don't think that we're some kind of spies sneaking in."

"Even though we are spies sneaking in," Yaz said dryly. She glanced around, seeing other scantily clad people leaning into the more formally dressed people, and she pressed herself against the Doctor, hip to hip. 

"What - oh." The Doctor glanced around, then looked over, sheepish. "Sweetheart," she said, and the word sounded strange in her mouth, as if it was a weirdly shaped rock, "could you be a love and get us some food?"

"Of course," said Yaz, and she kissed the Doctor on the cheek, only a little bit timidly. She could feel the Doctor's skin warm up under her lip, and then she was off, weaving through the throng to the buffet table. 

There were other people dressed similar to her there, all getting plates, and a few of them smiled at her. "Is this your first time?" Asked a man who seemed to be wearing a pair of shorts that were held up by hope and chewing gum. 

"What, at a party?" Yaz smiled at him. He had a slightly odd looking face for a human, until her brain resolved that it was due to the fact that he had a muzzle. Not human, then.

"First time with your sugar daddy," the man said, and then he grinned, as she looked down. "Don't worry," he said, his tone kind. "We're all new once."

"She's obviously nuts for you," another woman (with furry ears like a fox) said, her tone encouraging. "Absolutely nuts. You'll have her wrapped around your little finger in no time!"

"How can y'tell?" Yaz blurted out, before her brain had a chance to catch up with her mouth.

"The way she looks at you," the man said confidently. 

"She adores you," the woman added.

"Is my, uh... inexperience that obvious?" Yaz was piling things onto the plate - she realized, somewhat belatedly, that she hadn't thought to ask the Doctor what she would be getting. 

"Yeah, but like I said," the man said, "we're all new once." He patted her on the shoulder, and then he was off towards a very tall woman who had a much more pronounced muzzle than his. He had a curly tail like her cousin's Basenji, she noted, and her own knees seemed to be made of jelly.

"Thanks," she said to the woman, giving her a nervous smile.

"No worries," said the woman, and she gave Yaz a broad, toothy grin. It was more unsettling than comforting - a lot of those teeth were _very_ sharp - but the sentiment was appreciated. 

* * *

Yaz made her way back to the Doctor, and she took something off the plate at random (a mini taco, maybe?) and fed it to the Doctor.

The Doctor took it, looking faintly surprised, and then she took her own. "I saw you chattin'," she said. "Get a good natter in about the strange things with the endangered plants?"

"Nah," said Yaz. "They just said that we look like we're new at this." _Do I mention that they said that they think you're super into me?_ How to even say that?

"Oh," said the Doctor. "Well. I haven't done this kinda role in awhile. Little rusty. To say nothin' of doing it while shaped... well, like this." She draped an arm around Yaz's shoulders again, and she rested her forehead against Yaz's temple. 

"Mm?" Yaz was paying more attention to the warm body pressed against her own, and then there was something being offered to her from between the Doctor's thin fingers. It reminded her of a small cannoli, but savory. Sort of. It tasted a little like fish, and a little like chicken, and a whole lot like potato. 

"It's been exciting, trying things in this new body," the Doctor said hopefully, as she fed Yaz another... whatever it was. This one tasted strongly of olives, and Yaz wasn't sure if she liked it, although she definitely liked being the center of the Doctor's attention, even if it did leave her faintly flustered. "Everything tastes different, and people react different, obviously, and there's the physical side of things that's all different..." She trailed off, then; "ooh, look! I think that door was closed before! I think the person guarding it went to the toilet, so now's our chance!" 

And they were off.

* * * 

The two of them ended up in what looked like a library. It was a lot less glamorous than the big house, but felt much more lived in. The shelves were filled with books that weren't _just_ sex things, but... wow.

"Um," said Yaz, as the two of them made their way down the aisles, "that sure is a lot of..." She cleared her throat. "Not exactly a filing system I've ever seen." She'd never heard of half of those sex acts. 

The Doctor squinted up at the signs designating the different sections. "Huh. How do you rank them?"

Yaz blinked at her. "What d'you mean?"

"Y'know, like..." The Doctor waved her hands. "The Dewey Decimal System, right? Numbers go up or down. Urgh, Dewey was a right creep, by the way. I'll spare you the introduction." 

"Thanks," said Yaz. "Still not sure what you mean."

"Like," the Doctor said, "with numbers, you'd expect to find five next to six or four, right?"

Yaz nodded.

"The same way you'd expect to find X by Y or by W. But if it's filed by "doggy style" or "Viennese oyster," or whatever, how would you decide what goes by what. Doesn't seem like a proper filing system. And anyway, there are different sex acts you can do in those positions in the first place, so -"

There was the sound of footsteps from the door. "Who's in here?" A voice called. "This area is off limits!" 

Yaz wasn’t thinking when she acted. She grabbed the Doctor, shoved her against a shelf, and kissed her like it was the end of the world. It was an awkward, messy kiss, and she held onto the Doctor’s shoulders. She let her tongue slip into the Doctor’s mouth, and she sighed as the Doctor’s tongue brushed against her own, the Doctor’s fingers slipping into her hair. It was the kind of kissing she associated with a certain class of romance novel.

_This isn’t a real kiss_ , she told herself sternly, _It’s all undercover work._ It was hard to remember that when the Doctor’s mouth was soft and wet and warm, and the Doctor had moved them, so that Yaz was pushed back against the bookshelf. She gasped as the Doctor’s leg pressed between her knees, and she brought her hands to the Doctor’s back, clutching the suit jacket. 

“This area is - oh.” The voice coming from outside sounded faintly sheepish. 

The Doctor pulled back, looking over her shoulder. "Hello," she said, her voice as cheery and chipper as ever. Her hair was faintly mussed, and her lips were swollen and pink from where they'd been pressed against Yaz's own. 

Yaz was wet and tingling between the legs, her heart beating desperately in her head, in her nipples, in her clit. She looked over the Doctor's shoulder at the man, and she tried to look less sheepish herself. 

"Sorry," he said, and he cleared his throat, "but this is a private area."

"Couldn't resist a good look," the Doctor said, and she laced her fingers together with Yaz's. "Always nosy, me. And I know you're known for an _excellent_ book collection." 

The man inflated like a balloon - _he must not be human_ , Yaz thought, over the roar of her own heartbeat - and he grinned. 

"I can show you the rest of my collection, if you'd like," he said. "I've got some rare specimens. If you'd be curious." Then he made an apologetic face at Yaz. "You won't be able to take your... friend, however."

"Why not?" The Doctor's hand had slipped into Yaz's, and she gave it a squeeze.

"The lift can only fit two people," he said, and that was such a reasonable thing that Yaz had to blink. _Not even a big secret. Just logistics. Although then again, he probably designed the place._

"Yaz can stay here and read up a bit," The Doctor said, pressing a kiss to Yaz's cheek.

"Read up a bit," Yaz said, raising an eyebrow.

The man laughed. "You want her to have some new techniques, then?" He slapped the Doctor on the shoulder, and the Doctor was clearly working very hard on not flinching. She gave Yaz's hand another squeeze, and then she was heading down one long aisle. 

"Catch up on your reading, Yaz," the Doctor called over her shoulder. "About that one thing we talked about before we got here!"

_What, mini grilled cheese sandwiches?_ Yaz raised an eyebrow over the man's shoulder, and the Doctor gave a slightly sheepish smile.

"I wouldn't ordinarily allow someone into my private collection," the man said, as the two of them kept going, "but you are _clearly_ a being of good taste."

And then Yaz was alone in a whole library of smut. 

Lacking anything else to do, she found a chair (it looked clean, although she didn't want to think too hard about what might have gone on around here) and picked out a book at random.

Then she closed it rather hurriedly, put it back, and picked out another book, this one with a more innocuous cover. If she had learned anything from her years as a horny teenage miscreant (as Sonya had once called her when she'd caught Yaz with one of their mum's romance novels), it was that a cover wasn't an indicator of anything.

The book was, at least ostensibly, about botany. A lot of discussion of flowers, although the illustrations certainly were... well.

_Well_.

Yaz squirmed, trying not to think of what it had felt like to be pressed up against the Doctor, the softness of the Doctor's lips against her own, the desperate little noises the other woman had made against her mouth. 

The Doctor kissed like a starving person ate: desperately, as if she was afraid that the person she was kissing would be snatched away at any moment. _What would it be like, to feel that mouth in all the good, sensitive places?_ The Doctor's mouth had been cooler than a human's, although still obviously warm and alive. 

Yaz found herself squeezing her thighs together, rocking just a bit in the seat. She was biting her lip, and she was very pointedly _not_ shoving a hand in between her legs, so that she could grind against her wrist. 

_If there was ever a library to wank in_ , Yaz thought, half delirious. _Where did she expect me to find any information about some rare plant amongst all of this smut, anyway?_ This was all weird, but was anything with the Doctor ever not weird?

Yaz didn't have her phone on her, and there wasn't a clock in the library. She ended up paging through most of the book on botany, before getting up to find something else to look into. She got the bright idea to possibly check the magazine itself, which led to a fruitful... who knew how long. 

At least the pictures there were (mostly) more unusual than sexy. Some of it she flat out didn't _get_. On a more recent spread (at least, she assumed it was a more recent spread) there was more of that purple-green color, on scarves and lingerie and... what looked like togas, but who knew what it actually was. 

She paged through, not really paying attention to the articles themselves, admiring the pictures or looking at the ads. When she heard the familiar sound of footsteps coming towards her, she looked up to find the Doctor and the man (presumably the man who owned the place) walking towards her. The man looked amused, and the Doctor looked surprised, which was a shock in and of itself.

"Is everything alright, Doctor?" Yaz rushed over, still holding the magazine in one hand.

"Yeah," the Doctor said distractedly. "It's great." She glanced down at the magazine, and she grinned at Yaz, bouncing back to her usual cheeky self. "Bit of light reading, then, Yaz?"

"You _told_ me to," Yaz mumbled, and she was blushing so hard she could feel it in her ears. 

"You read it for the articles, right?" He was grinning as well.

Yaz handed it over to him, still blushing. "Are we okay?" She directed her question at the Doctor.

"Oh yeah," the Doctor said. "We're doin' great. Golden." She took Yaz's hand in her own, and the two of them made their way out of the library. 

* * *

"He's cloning them," the Doctor said, about ten minutes later. The two of them were sitting on a couch, close enough that Yaz could feel the warmth of the Doctor's body. 

"Cloning them?" Yaz took a sip of her drink - non-alcoholic, and tasting like some mix of passion fruit and pickle juice, which worked better than it should have.

"He's been cloning the flower," the Doctor said. "He's not even growing them on a bush, can you believe it? Has this huge underground greenhouse growing trees full of 'em. I think they’re an actual new species now, sort of."

"Huh," said Yaz, taking another sip of her drink. "I take it that's not what you were expecting?"

" _Very much_ not what I was expecting," the Doctor said. "But he's being good to it. It's not some maniacal mastermind trying to ruin an economy or destroy an ecosystem or anything like that. He just... saw the color and fell in love with it, then saw the plant and fell in love with _that_. He bought a flower legitimately off the nuns, and then he found a way to graft it to a tree like an apple branch..." She waved her hands around. "He _sings_ to it Yaz. I stood in that greenhouse and listened to this man sing opera to a tree." 

"That sounds surreal," Yaz said. 

"It was, a little bit," the Doctor admitted. "But there's nothing bad going on. Nothing shady. Just unexpected." She huffed out a long breath, making her hair flap away from her face. 

Yaz tucked a piece of it behind one ear, not thinking, and then she froze. She was touching the Doctor, and the Doctor was staring at her with wide, luminous eyes. _I should move my hand_ , Yaz thought, and she stayed in place.

The Doctor took Yaz's hand in her own, and she pressed it against her face. She leaned into it, and then she pressed a kiss to the inside of Yaz's wrist. It was a gentle little brush of lips against skin, but it seemed to ignite the arousal that had started to calm down.

"I don't... think we need to keep pretending," Yaz whispered. She wasn't sure that the Doctor would be able to hear her.

"Someone might still have suspicions," the Doctor murmured. She kissed the inside of Yaz's arm, right over her wrist. 

"We could leave," Yaz said, and then she kicked herself, because _why stop her_.

The Doctor looked up at Yaz through her eyelashes. "But I don't wanna," she said. 

"Wanna keep partyin' the night away, do ya?" Yaz tried to keep her tone light.

The Doctor kissed the delicate, sensitive skin on the inside of Yaz's elbow, and Yaz gave a full body shudder, her skin breaking out in goosebumps. "Somethin' like that," the Doctor said, and her voice was vibrating across Yaz's skin, making her shiver.

Yaz's nipples were hard, and all the little hairs on the back of her neck and the top of her head were standing on edge. Something _important_ was happening, something that she didn't entirely understand that was making her head spin. 

"I don't know how good I am at pretending," Yaz said, and her tongue was thick and heavy in her mouth. "Only a certain amount of time I can... keep up the charade." It hurt to say that. It hurt to think of how this would be over soon. 

She could hold the memory of kissing the Doctor in the palm of her hand like a diamond, and she could treasure it the exact same way.

"So let's stop pretending," the Doctor said, and her eyes stayed on Yaz's. "Come dance with me?" She added, as the music changed to something slow and mournful. 

Yaz blinked. "What?" It was enough of a changed tack that she was faintly off balance.

"Dance," the Doctor said. "With me." She indicated the various couples gently rotating on the dance floor. 

"D'you dance?" Yaz wasn't sure why she was so surprised. She'd never met a local custom the Doctor wasn't willing to partake in, barring anything to do with cannibalism or pears. 

"Who doesn't dance?" The Doctor scoffed, and then she was pulling Yaz out onto the dance floor. Then she paused. "Who leads? Don't think I've ever slow danced as a woman."

"Not too difficult," Yaz said. She took the Doctor's hands in her own, draping them over her shoulders, and she cautiously put her hands on the Doctor's waist. They swayed to the music, surrounded by all the other bodies, not all of them human - or even bipedal - and Yaz let herself be swept away in the perfectness of the moment. 

It was almost like floating. Her skin tingled in all the places that the Doctor was touching her, and she was acutely aware of the warmth of their bodies, pressed up together like this. She fancied she could feel the Doctor's own double heartbeat, up against her own chest. _This is the most romantic thing I've ever done_ , she thought dazedly, as she pressed her forehead against the Doctor's. She'd never slow danced with someone her height before, and the experience was novel. The Doctor was wearing the same face she wore when she was concentrating very hard on repairing the TARDIS, or trying to remember if it was the red wire or the blue wire.

"This is nice," the Doctor said, her voice quiet. "Doin' this. You 'n me. As you 'n me, I mean. Not just as..." She shrugged. 

The goofy smile was stretching across Yaz's face, but she couldn't seem to stop it. "Yeah?" She bumped their foreheads together gently. "I didn't realize this were a thing you wanted to do."

"I didn't either," the Doctor said, her tone frank. "Learnin' a lot of things about myself, it seems. Haven't done much of this sort of thing in this body."

"Is it different, every body?" They were still swaying to the music, and the Doctor's blond hair was ticklish against Yaz's cheeks. 

"Yeah," the Doctor breathed. "Every body likes new things. The last one weren't super physical, didn't want much in the way of hanky panky."

"I see," said Yaz, and somehow she managed to keep a straight face at the words "hanky panky," a heroic effort that she most definitely deserved a medal for. "Versus this one?"

"Pretty interested," the Doctor said, with a frankness that shouldn't have made Yaz's heart beat quite so fast. "Would you wanna?"

"Would I wanna what? Hanky panky?" The song was changing, speeding up. It seemed to match Yaz's hammering pulse.

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "I mean. I'm not sure what that _actually_ means. But if you'd like to have -"

Yaz kissed the Doctor. She kissed her right there on the dance floor, and when she pulled back, the Doctor was staring at her with wide, shining eyes. 

"Might be the most romantic first kiss I ever had," the Doctor whispered.

"First kiss, nothin',' Yaz said. "Didja forget the library?"

"That didn't count," the Doctor said. She grabbed Yaz's hand, and she tugged her towards the edge of the dance floor. "We can go back to the TARDIS, if you'd like?"

Whatever spell they seemed to be under felt too fragile to risk a whole trip to the TARDIS. Yaz just wanted to hold on to whatever magic that ticked away under the night, for as long as she could. 

"Can we stay here?" Yaz asked. "Since we have a suite at the hotel, I mean."

"Sure," the Doctor said, and she was grinning. In the dim light, it looked a little bit like she was blushing, and Yaz's stomach twisted up, arousal bursting back to life in the pit of her stomach. "Yeah, let's do that."

Yaz squeezed the Doctor's hand, and she bit her lip when the Doctor squeezed hers back.

* * *

As soon as they were back in the suite, the Doctor pushed Yaz back against the door and kissed her. 

It was different from the first kiss they'd had - it was slow, almost languid. The Doctor's tongue was tentative, and her hands were nervous as they flitted from Yaz's shoulders to her face to her arms, then back to her shoulders. When she pulled back, her eyes were very bright and her lips were very pink.

"Tell me what you like, Yaz," the Doctor said, and her tone was full of a fervency that made Yaz shiver.

_I like kissing_ , Yaz should have said. _I like touching your face and your hair and your breasts._ "I like choking," Yaz said, and _why the fuck did she say that_?!

The Doctor didn't look scandalized or grossed out or even weirded out. "Haven't done that in a while," she said. "How d'you like it?" 

"Um," said Yaz, because... well. "I've... I've never done it with another person. Just myself, a little."

"Not very safe doin' that," the Doctor scolded.

"Hardly dangerous if I've just got my own hand on my throat while I'm having a wank," Yaz protested. "Not like I'm using a scarf or somethin'."

"That a thing you do often, Yasmin Khan?" The Doctor pushed her into the wall again, and her hand was around Yaz's throat. It was gentle - so gentle - but firm. The Doctor's other hand grabbed Yaz's, and she put it on her wrist. "Let go of me when you want me to let go."

Yaz nodded. Her head was spinning - the Doctor was just... going along with it. She was fine. She was good with all of this. _How_?

The Doctor was looking into Yaz's eyes. She squeezed, and the pounding in Yaz's head grew a little louder, pressure building behind her eyes. She sagged back against the wall, and the Doctor kissed her again, sucking on her tongue. She let go of Yaz's throat, and the air was cool and sweet down Yaz's throat. 

"You're doing so good, Yaz," the Doctor whispered, and Yaz was melting back against the wall, she was groaning as she clutched harder at the Doctor's wrist. "Such a good girl for me."

Yaz shuddered, and her hips were rolling. She was already a needy, desperate mess, and she'd have been embarrassed about it if she had room for it. But the pressure that was mounting behind her eyes seemed to crowd out everything else, and maybe that's why more words were coming out of her mouth, wheezy from the choking. 

"Tie me up, please tie me up," Yaz whispered, and oh god, she was just _demanding_ now, wasn't she? The Doctor was going to think she was some kind of needy, kinky freak.

The Doctor let go of her throat, and she was grinning mischievously. "I haven't gotten to do this in _forever_ ," she confided. "For fun," she added, as an afterthought. She didn't seem in the least bothered, as she took the scarf off of Yaz's shoulders, to wind it around Yaz's wrists, an easy, practiced back and forth motion. 

Yaz stared down at her tied hands, then up at the Doctor's face. She was still gasping, as if she was being choked, and she licked her lips. "You're really okay with this?" 

"Wouldn't do it if I weren't," the Doctor said cheerfully. She hooked her fingers in the fabric between Yaz's wrists, and she gave it a tug. "Too tight?"

Yaz shook her head. 

"Good," the Doctor said. She tugged it again, making Yaz lean a little further forward, and her grin got wider. "Look at you, Yaz, you're so gorgeous. You're so smart, so brave." She squeezed Yaz's throat again, as Yaz's bound hands clutched at her shirt. "Willing to come to this den of filth..."

"Hardly... a den of... filth," Yaz gasped, and then she burst into awkward, wheezing laughter. 

"Yeah, pretty clean," the Doctor agreed, glancing around at the gleaming white marble all around them. "Even the housekeepers have rave reviews about the guy, I had a gab with one of 'em."

The Doctor's free hand moved to Yaz's chest, cupping one breast through the dress. She pinched the nipple, then went for the other. "Been starin' at your tits," the Doctor said, embarrassed, and she met Yaz's eyes with a sheepish grin. "I wanna see 'em so badly, but you look so _good_ in the dress that it'd be a shame to take you out." She let go for a moment, to let Yaz breathe, and then she was squeezing again. "Ever since I saw you in that coat of yours, the furry one, I've just wanted to..." 

The Doctor leaned forward, and she kissed Yaz on the mouth, sucking the remaining air into her mouth. Yaz's pulse hammered desperately against the Doctor's fingers, and she kept clutching, trembling. She was _engulfed_ , and the dizziness seemed to make her float a few inches to the left of herself. She trusted the Doctor, and that in and of itself was more terrifying and exhilarating than the lack of oxygen. 

The Doctor let go of Yaz's throat, and Yaz took another deep, gulping breath. "I wanna eat you out," the Doctor said, as if that was just a _thing_ that was said. "I want to touch all of you," she added, almost as an afterthought. "With my mouth, I mean. And my hands. And anything else you'd wanna be touched with, honestly, but ever since I saw you in that dress on I've just wanted to get on my knees and -"

"Yes," Yaz blurted out, possibly too quickly. "Yes. Please." Did that look too eager? 

… then again, this was the Doctor. Yaz doubted that she could ever be half as eager as the Doctor. 

"Excellent," the Doctor said, and then she was just... dropping to her knees, just like she'd said. "I've been thinkin' about you wearing the knickers I chose," she added, as her hands made their way up Yaz's legs. She paused to twang one of the garters, and Yaz squirmed, her toes curling. "I didn't think I'd get to see, but... Yaz, you're so _beautiful_." She was pushing the skirt up, pinning it between her hand and Yaz's belly. Then she leaned back, her eyes darting between Yaz's knickers and Yaz's face. "I knew red were a good choice," she said, confident as anything. She looked up at Yaz, her face as open as a sunrise and twice as bright, and then she kept the eye contact as she leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the damp red lace between Yaz's legs.

"Oh," Yaz said thickly. She rested her bound hands on the Doctor's head, her fingers tangled in the Doctor's hair, and she slumped back against the wall as the Doctor licked her through her knickers. Then the Doctor's tongue swirled over her clit, and she yanked on the Doctor's hair, her hips rocking forward as the hot, sweet pleasure spiked in her gut.

"Oo," the Doctor said, and she pulled back, looking up Yaz's body. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips were very pink. "That were a hard pull."

"Sorry," Yaz said. "I, uh, I can get very into it..."

"Don't be, don't be," the Doctor said. She looked faintly surprised with herself. "I think I like it. Do it again?" 

Yaz yanked on the Doctor's hair, pulling the other woman's head back, and the Doctor moaned. It was a long, needy sound, and it made Yaz weak in the knees. 

"Definitely like that," the Doctor said, her voice breathless. She pressed her face forward again, and her nose was right up against Yaz's clit, her tongue rasping against the lace and getting it wetter. 

Yaz whimpered, still holding the Doctor's hair. She nearly overbalanced when the Doctor grabbed one leg in an attempt to get it over her shoulder. 

"Wait a sec," the Doctor said, and she blinked, clearly coming back to herself. 

"Mmm?" Yaz blinked down at her, trying to figure out what the Doctor's next step was going to be.

"Knickers," the Doctor said, and she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of Yaz's red lace panties, tugging them down her leg. "Can't do much with these on."

"Sure y'could," Yaz murmured, but she obligingly stepped out, leaving her bare. Her skirt had fallen down again, and she was leaning heavily on the wall. The Doctor carefully lifted Yaz's leg up, draping it over her shoulder, and then she wriggled forward again, until her face was hidden by the folds of the skirt and her hot breath was ruffling Yaz's pubic hair, ticklish and teasing. 

The Doctor's tongue, however, was not teasing. It was as direct as the rest of her, and Yaz hissed, pulling the Doctor's hair tight as the Doctor lapped at her vulva, then wriggled between her labia. It was doing so many things at once that Yaz couldn't keep track - or maybe she was just overwhelmed by the desperate pleasure that was already building inside of her. The Doctor moaned each time Yaz pulled her hair, and that sent vibrations through Yaz's cunt, which made her pull harder.

It was a perpetual motion machine of pleasure, something that fed on itself to make more of itself, and Yaz couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the Doctor. She was almost assaulted by all the details; the contrast in colors between the blond hair, her skin and the Doctor's, the purple scarf, the silver dress, the red garter. The little furrow between the Doctor's brows as she licked and sucked, the way every desperate little noise she made wobbled its way out of her mouth and through to Yaz's cunt. 

Yaz's orgasm snuck up on her, like a thief in the night. She cried out as the pleasure pulsed through her in waves, still yanking on the Doctor's hair, and the Doctor licked and sucked her through it and into the next one, which left her so weak in the knees that she ended up sliding down onto the floor, dislodging the Doctor from under her skirt. She ended up sprawled on the floor, her legs tangled with the Doctor's, her tied hands still resting on top of the Doctor's head.

Yaz let her eyes trail all along the Doctor's form, taking in the shiny lips, the red cheeks. She followed the line of the Doctor arm down... into her trousers.

"Are you touching yourself?" Yaz's voice came out as a rough croak - was that from the choking, or from the way she'd been moaning so loudly?

"Yeah, sorry, know it's rude to have a wank in the middle of... _oh_ ," the Doctor stopped, mid-ramble, as Yaz gave her hair another yank. 

"Didn't say stop," Yaz said thickly. _Is that even me talking?_ She watched, entranced, as the Doctor's hand moved under her trousers, the fabric rising and falling as the Doctor did... whatever it was she was doing. Something about not being able to see all of it somehow made it _more_ alluring. She wanted to see the Doctor naked, wanted to bury her face and her fingers into what was no doubt a sloppy pink cunt, but... there was something equally arousing about not being able to see, about having to _imagine_

Yaz's clit throbbed again, making it known that it was up for another round, and Yaz bit her lip. 

"Oh, Yaz," the Doctor moaned. "You're such a good girl, you're so... gorgeous, I want to eat you out again, I want to fuck you, I want... I..." 

The Doctor's whole face scrunched up as she came, and Yaz kept her eyes on the Doctor's, as drinking in the little gasps and the way the Doctor's chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, still trembling. 

"Whoa," the Doctor said. "Never done that before."

"What, wanked?" Yaz wasn't sure if she was amused or scandalized.

"Had an orgasm," the Doctor clarified. "In this body," she added, when she caught Yaz's faintly outraged expression. "Female ones are _definitely_ different."

Yaz grinned at her, making a big show of licking her lips and pulling on the Doctor's hair again, the blond a sharp contrast to the purple scarf. "You sure?"

"Oh yeah," the Doctor said, her eyes still glued to Yaz's face. 

Yaz leaned in, and she kissed the Doctor, tasting her the salt of her own cunt on the Doctor's lips. "Might need to have another," she said, when she'd pulled back just enough to catch her breath. 

"Oh, most definitely," the Doctor agreed, breathless. Then a pause. "But could we do it on a bed, maybe? Don't think my knees are up to this."

Yaz snickered, and she gave the Doctor's hair another tug, just to hear her moan. "Could be arranged," she agreed. 

As the Doctor was helping Yaz up, she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Yaz let the Doctor untie her wrists, using her now free hands to pull the Doctor closer to her and kiss the other woman again, sweet and deep and hot.

"I were just thinkin'," the Doctor said, "that all of this... it reads like something what you'd find in a dirty magazine." She caught Yaz's confused expression, and her grin widened. "Y'know. 'Dear Penthouse, I never thought it would happen to me...'" 

"And here I thought you were just reading it for the articles," Yaz teased. She was still giggling when the Doctor closed the gap, kissing her breathless.


End file.
